Letters from War
by CaptainSwanLuver
Summary: Killian Jones is serving in Afghanistan when his mate, Neal, is killed in the line of duty. He promises Neal he will deliver a letter to his widow, Emma, in person. But Killian and Emma soon find themselves corresponding with each other in letters of their own.


**Title** : Letters from War

 **Author** : Steph aka CaptainSwanLuver

 **Rating** : G

 **Pairing** : Killian/Emma

 **Characters** : Killian, Emma, Neal

 **Category** : Drama/Romance

 **Spoilers** : Nope

 **Summary** : Killian Jones is serving in Afghanistan when his mate, Neal, is killed in the line of duty. He promises Neal he will deliver a letter to his widow, Emma, in person. But Killian and Emma soon find themselves corresponding with each other in letters of their own.

 **Note** : I wrote this in honor of Memorial Day and all those who gave their lives to protect our freedom, as well as those who risked their lives. I hope you enjoy it. ~Steph

 **…Letters from War: Part 1/1...**

Killian Jones stood outside her house, trying to gain the courage to knock. He had been in the army for over twelve years and had faced countless dangerous situations. But the mere thought of meeting Emma Swan face-to-face for the first time had turned him into a ball of nerves. His stomach was in knots and his palms were sweaty. He kept pressing at invisible wrinkles on his uniform. He took another steadying breath and raised his hand to knock.

He waited and then knocked again. When no one answered, he rang the doorbell. Killian felt his heart sink into his stomach as he realized she wasn't home. He should have called ahead. He thought if he had called ahead then he might lose his nerve, but he was now regretting that decision. He turned around and walked to her porch steps. He had come all this way from New York to Boston. He wasn't about to leave without meeting her. He was a patient man. Killian had waited a year and half to lay eyes on her. There was no reason he couldn't wait a little while longer.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. He ran his fingers across her name. The envelope was still sealed. It had been that way for two years. Neal had written it to Emma on their first night in Afghanistan. Six months later, he was dead.

He had died in Killian's arms. They had been driving when their jeep hit an IED. Killian was in the backseat and had survived with just some minor shrapnel injuries. The passenger had lost a foot. But Neal was the driver and he had suffered the most severe injuries.

Killian felt tears sting his eyes as he recalled cradling his bloody body in his arms. He begged him to hold on, assured him he was going to be fine.

But Neal knew what Killian hadn't yet accepted. He would never make it home. Killian could still feel his hand in his as he gripped it tightly. He could still see the tears in Neal's eyes as he looked into his own and made him promise.

He made him promise that he would hand deliver the letter to Emma. Killian told him that he could mail it to her, but Neal insisted that he deliver it in person. When Killian asked him why, he said that he knew Killian was a man of honor and would never break a promise. He knew if he promised him that he would deliver the letter to Emma in person then Killian would do everything in his power to get home safely. He wanted to give him a goal to aspire to, something to hold onto. Far too often, the men would lose a comrade and their hope would die along with him. Neal always said loss of hope can be one of the most dangerous things for any serviceman. Those who lack hope lose focus and drive and that's when tragic things happen.

So Killian had made the promise, he had granted his dying wish. And then he was gone. There were times when he did lose hope after that, but then he would take out the letter and run his fingers across Neal's familiar scrawl of her name.

Killian felt like he knew Emma before they had even begun to correspond. Neal would tell him stories about how they met and how amazing Emma was. They were only 17 when they met. Emma was a foster kid who had bounced from foster home to foster home since she was abandoned as a baby. Neal was an army brat. His father had served in the army and they were always being transferred to different bases. In his junior year, he ended up at the same school as Emma. They formed an immediate connection. Neither one was good at making friends. Emma changed schools every time she changed foster families. After a while, she stopped trying to make friends since she knew she would have to leave them soon enough. Neal had done the same. Their lack of connection with others is what actually brought them together.

They dated until graduation. Neal enlisted two years later after a string of jobs that left him feeling without purpose. They married two days before he left for Afghanistan. When he returned from his first tour, Emma became pregnant. She gave birth to their son, Henry, while he was on his second tour. Henry was now ten.

Neal would tell him stories about his private investigator/bail bondsman wife. She was strong and brave and smart and stubborn. And she was the most beautiful woman Killian had ever seen. Neal had one picture of her, which he placed on the makeshift nightstand that sat between their cots. Killian remembered the first time he'd seen her. She had taken his breath away. Her blonde locks framed her stunning face. He remembered her smile the most. It was so full of life, reaching her eyes and making them sparkle.

He knew that picture of her was a reminder to Neal of what he was fighting for, what he was fighting to get home to. It gave him hope. After Neal died, Killian would stare at her picture and he found she began to give him hope too.

Killian had no intention of contacting Emma before then. But on the day of Neal's death, he had received a letter from her. Killian remembered teasing him about how he still wrote letters when they could just email now. He would have video chats with Emma and Henry every so often, but he would never email. Neal said that letter writing was a lost art form. Letters were more intimate, they allowed for a deeper connection. In an email, he couldn't touch the same paper Emma had. He couldn't smell her perfume on it. He couldn't run his fingers over the words she had written him.

Her letters to Neal came weekly. And Killian still remembered the way his heart dropped into his stomach at the sight of her familiar handwriting when he had arrived back at camp that night. He was still covered in her husband's blood as he picked up the envelope. He remembered how he didn't realize he was crying until he saw the tears hit the envelope.

Killian had almost sent the letter back, but something stopped him. Instead, he opened it. It was a completely normal letter, filled with mundane things. Emma told him about Henry winning a writing contest at school and how the washing machine had finally given out. There were no sweeping declarations of love. Perhaps if she knew it was the last letter she would ever get to write to him then she would have said all of the things left unspoken. Emma's letters were always about reminding Neal of the life waiting for him back home. The life he would never again experience.

Killian recalled staring at the letter for a long time that night. He then took out the letter Neal had written Emma on his first night there. That letter was only to be given to her in the event of his death. And now he was faced with just that. After that night, Killian had almost mailed it a hundred times, but the thought of the promise he had made stopped him.

That first night without Neal, Killian did something he had never expected to do. He wrote back to Emma. He knew that by the time she received it she would already know her husband was dead, but Killian just didn't feel right about leaving her letter unanswered. He felt Neal would have wanted it that way. Killian didn't know what to say. But then he realized there were no words that would ease her pain or bring her the comfort she and her son deserved. All he could do was hope to tell her some things about the man she would never again see.

...

 _Dear Emma,_

 _I know we have never met, but I feel as if I know you. Neal has told me a great deal about you and your boy. I realize this letter will find you grieving his death. I want you to know how deeply sorry I am for your loss._

 _Your husband was a good man, a man of honor. He died a hero, doing what he loved. I know he wouldn't regret his choices, but I suspect that brings you little comfort now._

 _I know there is nothing I can say to make things better, so I won't even try. But I want you to know how much Neal loved you and Henry. He spoke of you both frequently and with great affection. He was so proud of you, Emma. He was proud of how strong you are and how you are raising your son all by yourself while he is deployed. I know he missed you both terribly._

 _Please know you were never far from his thoughts and always in his heart._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Killian Jones_

...

He never expected to hear back from her, but two weeks later he did.

...

 _Dear Killian,_

 _Thank you for your letter. I appreciate your kind words and that you took the time to write them. Neal spoke of you often in his letters and during our talks. He was very fond of you. I take comfort knowing that you were there for him in his last moments._

 _These last weeks have been very difficult. There's a part of me that thinks it won't truly feel real until his homecoming day comes and goes and he doesn't walk through the front door or I don't go to pick him up at the airport._

 _I always knew this day could come. Every military wife prepares herself for the possibility, but it isn't until it happens that you realize there is no preparing yourself. It's impossible._

 _But I must carry on as best I can. I have a son to care for. It's what Neal would have wanted. So I will find a way to do that somehow._

 _Thank you again. Stay safe._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Emma Swan_

...

Killian had expected it to end there. He hadn't expected to write to her again. But a week later they lost another one of their men to an IED. Killian was driving this time and the jeep in front of him rolled over one. The driver was killed instantly. He knew that if things had gone a little differently then he would have been the lead jeep and he would have been the one killed instantly. It left him shaken and feeling like he would never make it out of this god awful place alive.

He had gone back to his tent and stared at Neal's empty cot until tears filled his eyes. And then he saw Emma. Her picture still sat between their cots, but Killian now took it and turned it toward his cot. Her smiling face calmed him, brought him comfort. He took out the letter she had sent him and ran his fingers across the words. No one ever sent him letters. He had no one waiting for him to come home to New York.

Killian had been born in London. He had an older brother Liam. When he was 8, his father abandoned their family. When he was 10, his mother died from a brain aneurysm. Just like that. One minute she was here, the next minute she was gone. They had no other family so they were placed in an orphanage. The day Liam turned 18, he petitioned to become Killian's legal guardian and they left the orphanage. They moved to the states and Liam soon enlisted in the army. The day Killian turned 18, he did the same.

Liam was sent to Afghanistan first. He would write him all the time during Killian's basic training. Then one day right before Killian completed his training his commanding officer showed up at his door. He didn't have to say a word for Killian to know that he would never see his brother again. The look on his face said it all.

Killian almost quit that day. He had his bags packed. He saw no reason why he should give his life too, for a country that wasn't even the one he was born into. Then he received Liam's last letter. It said how proud he was of him and how he knew he would make a great soldier. He said he was a man of honor and he was lucky to call him his brother. Killian put the letter in his pocket and unpacked his bags.

It was the last letter he would receive until Emma's. He had no other family, no real friends. When he went to Afghanistan, he knew no one was waiting for him back home. No one would miss him. There wasn't even anyone to notify in the event of his death. The army made him write an emergency contact down, so he'd written the little old lady who lived in the apartment next to him. She'd made him cookies once and always waved at him.

But joining the army gave him something he hadn't had in a long time: a family. The men he served with became his brothers. It gave him people to depend on. People to care for. And it gave him people to lose again. Now he was having to watch as one by one they left him, just like his mother and brother had. His hope was beginning to leave with them.

So when he had gotten a letter from someone again after all these years, it gave him hope. It gave him something to hold onto. Now that he had lost another brother in arms, he needed that more than anything. So he sat down and wrote to her again.

...

 _Dear Emma,_

 _I know you probably never expected to hear from me again and please do not feel any obligation to write back to me. I just felt a need to write to you again today after what occurred._

 _We lost another one of our comrades today. If fate had dealt another hand, then it would have been me. One day perhaps it will be, but for now I must_ _watch as my brothers leave me. I miss them. I miss Neal._

 _I know the pain I feel is nothing compared to what you and your son are feeling. I know you have a long road ahead. I will keep you in my thoughts._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Killian_

...

Again, he felt certain he wouldn't hear back from her. But two weeks later a letter arrived.

...

 _Dear Killian,_

 _I was glad to hear from you again. I was sorry to hear of your friend's passing. I am relieved to hear you are safe though. Fate dealt you the hand you were meant to have. You have a lot of good work left to do. Please don't let the losses you experience cause you to lose hope. Neal always said losing hope is the most dangerous thing that can happen to any serviceman._

 _Hope starts with something to hold on, something to look forward to. Neal told me that you do not have any family. I know you don't receive letters from home. If you don't mind, I would like to continue to write to you. I have a feeling we can help each other._

 _Everyday things get a little better. Henry and I are learning to live a new normal. I think communicating with someone who was close to Neal can only help us with the grieving process. I hope you believe it will help you too._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Emma_

...

Killian began to look forward to Emma's twice monthly letters. She would tell him about her life as a private investigator and bail bondsman. She always had interesting stories to share. She also told him about Henry and how he was doing in school.

Killian would tell her about his life in Afganistan, but kept it to funny or interesting tidbits that occurred. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her anymore pain. After almost six months of correspondence, he felt comfortable enough to start revealing more about his life. He told her about his father abandoning him and his mother's death. She shared being abandoned as a baby and raised in foster care. They realized they had that in common. They had been abandoned by their parents and raised by others. Killian knew it left them both with trust issues, but with every letter they trusted the other more.

Killian revealed how his brother's death affected him in his Christmas letter to Emma.

...

 _Dear Emma,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well. I know this is your first Christmas without Neal and it will be difficult for you and your boy. I hope you can find some joy in the holiday all the same._

 _Neal spoke of the Christmases you spent together. How you would go out as a family in search of the biggest tree, but then Henry would get his heart set on a spindly reject. He spoke of baking cookies and decorating the house. He described parties full of delicious food and Christmas carols._

 _I must admit, I listened to his tales with envy. My Christmases were always spent alone in New York. It's a beautiful city at Christmas time and I hear it can be magical, but it's the loneliest city in the world when you have no one to share it with._

 _At least now I have my comrades. We sing Christmas carols by the fire and drink hot chocolate. It's nice to have people to spend the holiday with, such as it is._

 _I hope you and Henry find some peace during this time. Merry Christmas._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Killian_

...

Two weeks later, her letter arrived, but this time it came with a package. Killian had never received a package before. When he opened it, he found some Christmas cookies inside. It also contained a mini Charlie Brown Christmas tree with one ornament hanging off it. It was a silver angel.

The letter inside read:

 _Dear Killian,_

 _I hope this package finds you safe and well. Henry and I made you some cookies. They were Neal's favorite. Henry chose the tree. It's like our one at home, just smaller. I chose the ornament. It's an angel to watch over you._

 _The holidays without Neal have been hard. He's been deployed during them before, but knowing we'll never spend another together is difficult. A part of me wanted to crawl into bed and come out after New Year's, but I know that Neal wouldn't have wanted that. This was his favorite holiday. So I have done my best to put on a smile and uphold the traditions for Henry._

 _As a child, Christmas didn't mean much to me. My foster families either ignored the holiday or treated me like an intruder. I used to just wish I could fast forward until they were over. I can imagine it was similar for you in the orphanage. But then I met Neal and he made Christmas special, even when we were apart. Maybe one day it will be special again._

 _Stay safe, Killian. Merry Christmas._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Emma_

Killian smiled as he neatly folded her letter and placed it beneath his pillow with the others. He placed the tree beside her picture and took a bite of the cookie.

...

Three months later, Killian's life would change forever. He and his troop were on a food supply mission when a bomb went off in the village they were visiting. They lost three men and ten were injured. Killian was among the injured. He could still recall the feel of the heat on his skin as he was knocked to the ground. At first, he didn't think he had been hurt. He had heard stories about this before. Where your body goes into shock and you don't feel the pain immediately. It wasn't until he looked to his left and found his hand was missing that he realized he'd been injured. And then the unbearable pain set in.

There was no saving the hand. There was nothing left to save. The doctors were concerned about saving his life. He had lost a great deal of blood. Killian thought this was finally it. This time, he wouldn't survive. This was his fate. But he did survive.

He was sent to a hospital recover. When Emma didn't hear from him for a month, she began to worry and contacted the military. They informed her of his injury and where she could contact him.

Killian grew depressed with each passing day. He knew his time in the military as a soldier was now over. It was all he knew and was good at. He didn't know where life went from here.

He was left-handed, so he had to learn to write with his right hand. When Emma's letter arrived, he remembered the tears he felt knowing that his response to her would look as if a toddler wrote it. But her words brought his comfort. They gave him hope.

...

 _Dear Killian,_

 _I became worried when I didn't hear from you, so I contacted the military. I was so sorry to learn of your injury. I know it must be very difficult to accept, but never forget that every day you are still on this Earth breathing is a day to be grateful for. So many aren't that lucky. Neal wasn't._

 _I know life will never be the same again, but I believe you will find this challenge makes you stronger. You'll find you can handle more than you ever imagined. Never give up hope, Killian, and remember you are cared for._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Emma_

...

Killian had read that letter over and over again until the edges were tattered. It took him another month before he felt confident enough to write with his right hand and send her a response.

...

 _Dear Emma,_

 _Thank you for your letter. I apologize for taking so long to respond and for the sloppiness of my handwriting. I am still learning how to write with my right hand. I am having to learn a great deal of things._

 _But your letter brings me comfort and makes me feel stronger whenever I grow depressed or feel like giving up. I am grateful for having you in my life._

 _Take care._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Killian_

...

The letters continued while he recovered and his handwriting improved with time. Killian never could have predicted what happened next. It happened slowly with every letter, every word he wrote to her and she wrote back to him.

He fell in love with Emma. He never expected it to happen, didn't want it to, even denied it for a long time. But he knew it was true. He was in love her. He knew you can't control who you fall in love with or the feelings you have, but he still felt a deep sense of guilt. Neal had been his best mate. It was wrong to fall in love with his widow. He tried to push the feelings down and away, but nothing worked. But he swore he would never act on them and that she would never learn his true feelings.

It had been a year and a half since Neal had passed. Emma was still grieving, still figuring out how to move forward with her life. He had no right to burden her with his feelings, especially when he knew she was in no position to return them. And he knew it didn't matter if she returned them. Emma was off limits.

He remembered the day he was discharged from the hospital and sent back home to the states. They had gathered his belongings and sent them over to the hospital. He didn't care about anything except Emma's picture, the tree, and her letters. And the letter Neal had written to her.

Killian knew it was time. He had survived and now it was time to keep his promise to Neal.

...

Two weeks after he returned, he now found himself sitting on Emma's porch. He was still staring at the envelope with her name on it, so lost in his thoughts and memories that he never heard her approach.

"Hi, can I help you?"

Killian recognized her voice immediately. He'd heard it on the FaceTime chats she'd had with Neal, but she had never heard his voice. And he realized then that she had never seen his face before. He had never appeared on Neal's chats and he had never sent her a picture. They had kept their correspondence entirely to letters.

Killian's head slowly lifted and met her gaze. She was even more beautiful than her picture. Her hair was a little longer, but she had the same bright smile and sparkling eyes. She made his heart skip a beat.

Killian scrambled to his feet nervously and sucked in an anxious breath.

"Aye, apologies. I'm...uh...Killian. Killian Jones."

Emma's eyes widened and she nearly dropped the bag of groceries she was carrying.

"Killian?" she breathed.

He offered her a shy, crooked smile. "In the flesh."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were coming."

"I didn't call ahead. I know that was terribly rude of me." He paused and licked at his lips. "Apologies."

He wanted to tell her he worried he'd lose his nerve if he called ahead. The thought of finally meeting her, seeing her in person made him a nervous wreck. And now she was close enough for him to touch.

Emma felt a smile pull at her lips. She had imagined what his voice sounded like a hundred times. Every time she heard an English accent she wondered if that was what he sounded like. The reality was better than she imagined.

She had also imagined what he might look like, but she couldn't have come close to conjuring up an image that could hope to compare with reality. He was quite simply the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on. His blue eyes felt like they could see right into her soul and his smile made her weak in the knees.

"It's okay. I'm glad you're here," she said sincerely. "Come in."

Emma climbed the porch stairs and maneuvered the bag to one arm so she could find her keys and unlock the door.

"Let me help you with that," Killian said.

He took the bag from her in his right arm, while he used the stump of his left to steady it beneath the bag.

Emma noticed how well he handled only having one hand now, but didn't say anything. She found her keys and unlocked the front door.

The home was a small cape, but was decorated nicely and felt comfortable. Emma led the way into the kitchen.

"You can just put the bag on the counter," she said.

Killian placed it on the counter. "Your home is lovely."

"Thank you," she said. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea?"

Killian shook his head. "No, thank you."

Emma nodded and led the way into the living room. Killian passed by the mantle of the fireplace. His lips twitched into a sad smile at the pictures of Henry and Emma with Neal.

Emma sat down on the couch and Killian took his place beside her. They fell into a few moments of awkward silence.

"This is strange," Emma said with a nervous laugh, as she brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "Seeing you like this in person. Finally putting a face and voice to the words in your letters."

Killian nodded. "Aye, it is rather strange."

"I already feel like I know you."

"And I you," he replied softly.

"I must say I'm surprised to see you here. Happy, but surprised," she said.

Killian smiled. "I have something I needed to give to you."

Killian pulled the envelope back out of his pocket.

"A letter from you? You could have just mailed it. You didn't have to come all this way."

Killian shook his head and replied softly. "It's not from me."

Emma looked down at the familiar handwriting that had scrawled her name across the envelope. Tears filled her eyes.

"Neal?" she breathed.

Killian nodded, as she took the envelope from him and ran her fingertips across her name.

She looked back up at him. "I don't understand. He died a year and a half ago."

"He wrote this our first night in Afghanistan. He made me promise to give it to you in the event of his death."

Emma swallowed roughly. "Why didn't you send it to me?"

Killian shook his head. "He made me promise to deliver it to you in person."

Emma's brow furrowed. "Why?"

Killian met her eyes, his voice softening. "He wanted me to have something to hold onto, something to come back to. A goal to reach so I never gave up even when I wanted to."

Emma smiled sorrowfully. "That sounds like Neal." She paused. "Thank you."

Killian tilted his head. "No, thank you, Emma. That letter wasn't the only thing that got me through the difficult times in that wretched place. You did too."

"Me?" she asked, her brow raising.

"Aye, you. I looked forward to your letters. They gave me comfort, gave me hope when I needed it most."

Emma reached forward and placed her hand over his. Killian felt goosebumps appear on his skin at her touch.

"I'm glad I could help you, Killian." She paused and then went on, her voice lowering. "But you helped me, too."

"I did?" he asked, his eyebrows arching in surprise.

She nodded. "You did. You gave me something to focus on instead of my pain and Henry's pain. It felt good telling you about Neal and our life together. It kept his memory alive. I could focus on the happy times we shared, rather than the grief his death caused."

Emma squeezed his hand and Killian smiled gently.

"I'm glad I could help you too."

They lapsed into silence, both keenly aware that Emma's hand was still on Killian's. She finally removed it and licked at her lips nervously.

"So, um, do you want to stay for dinner? After all, you came all this way."

Killian stared at her for a long moment. He would have liked nothing more, but he knew he couldn't. If he stayed any longer, he wasn't sure he would ever be able to bring himself to leave her.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid I must be getting back to New York. I have matters to attend to."

Emma nodded. "What are your plans now?"

Killian shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. The army is all I've ever known."

Emma smiled. "I'm sure you'll find something that's right for you."

Just then, the front door swung open.

"Mom, I'm home," Henry called.

"I'm glad you didn't leave before meeting Henry. I know he would have been disappointed."

Henry walked into the living room and stopped in his tracks. Emma and Killian stood. Emma gestured to Killian.

"Henry, this is Killian Jones," she said.

Henry's eyes widened in recognition. "You served with my dad."

Killian nodded and extended his hand. "Aye, that I did. Pleasure to meet you."

"I've heard a lot about you from my mom," Henry said.

Killian glanced at Emma, who lowered her eyes to the ground.

"All good things, I hope," he said. He paused, his expression growing serious. "Your father was one of the bravest men I've ever met, Henry. You should be very proud of him."

Henry nodded with a small smile. "I am."

Killian bowed his head. "Well, I really must be going. I have a train back to New York to catch."

"It was nice meeting you," Henry said before disappearing into the kitchen.

"You as well," he said.

Emma walked Killian to the door. "Are you sure you can't stay for dinner? I'm sure there will be another train later."

Killian looked at her, her hopeful smile, her kind eyes. He knew he could spend the rest of his life looking at that face. And that was why he knew he needed to leave.

"I'm afraid not. Thank you for your hospitality."

Emma opened the door and watched him walk out. "Goodbye, Killian."

"Goodbye, Emma," he said before turning on his heel and walking down the steps.

Emma watched him go until he disappeared from view and then closed the door behind him. She then looked down at the letter in her hands.

…

Killian was certain he would never hear from Emma again. And he knew it was for the best. It was the only way he could bury his feelings for her and maybe in time they would go way. He knew there was no need for their correspondence to continue. He had kept his promise to Neal and she was moving forward as best she could. He no longer needed someone to give him hope.

He returned to New York and his lonely life. He had to get used to being alone again. One week later, he took a job with the army as a recruiter. He felt it was a way for him to still serve the country he now called his own. It would make him feel useful.

One week after that, he received a letter from Emma. He was surprised, but elated. He wrote back immediately, telling her of his new job. And they continued on like that for the next six months. Killian knew it could never go any further, but it gave him something to look forward to, which he realized he still needed. It helped him feel less alone.

…

Two days before Christmas, Killian heard a knock on his apartment door. He pulled the door open, his mouth dropping open at the sight of Emma before him.

"Emma? What are you doing here?"

She smiled. "I have a lead on a case that led me to New York, so I figured I'd come say hi."

Killian's brow rose. "But it's two days before Christmas. Shouldn't you be home with Henry?"

Emma shrugged. "Henry is in Texas with Neal's parents. They asked if he could come for Christmas and I couldn't say no. They see him so rarely and I think he makes them feel closer to Neal, like a piece of him lives on through Henry."

Killian nodded. "They didn't invite you?"

"I had cases to work on," she said. "Plus, being around them actually makes me miss Neal more."

"So you came to see me instead," he said softly.

Emma felt a blush creep into her cheeks. "Okay, so I do have some cases, but the truth is, I didn't have a lead that brought me to New York." She paused. "I wanted to see you, Killian."

Killian swallowed hard. "You did?"

Emma nodded. "I did." She bit at her lower lip nervously. "Is that okay?"

"Emma," he said softly.

She sucked in a breath. "I know you get lonely this time of year and the thought of spending Christmas all alone had me wanting to assume the fetal position. So I thought we could spend it together instead."

Killian swallowed roughly. She looked at him with a sincerity and hopefulness in her eyes that he just couldn't deny. But he knew this was a bad idea.

"It's okay," he found himself replying.

A huge smile spread across her lips. "Great." She reached her hand out to him. "How about we go see the Rockefeller tree?"

Killian stared at her hand for a long moment, then slipped his into it.

…

They spent the next two days doing all of the magical things New York had to offer at Christmas time. It was the first Christmas in New York Killian enjoyed and he had Emma to thank for that.

She'd even helped him decorate his barren apartment for the first time ever. The only decoration he had was the little tree she had sent him, which sat on the coffee table. They had gotten a small tree and bought some ornaments and lights. It wasn't much, but somehow it was perfect.

It was Christmas morning. Killian had taken the couch and had given Emma his bed for the last two nights. He woke up to find her sitting on the coffee table in front of him, watching him sleep.

"Merry Christmas!" she said brightly. "Sorry I was watching you sleep. I was just waiting for you to wake up. I hope that didn't come off as too creepy."

Killian chuckled, as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Not at all. Merry Christmas, Emma."

Emma stared at him for a long moment.

"What is it, love?" he asked.

She lifted her hand and brought it to his cheek. Her voice emerged softly. "The last two days have been amazing, Killian. This is the happiest I've been in over two years."

Killian sucked in a breath at her touch.

"Emma," he whispered.

"What's wrong, Killian?" she asked.

He brought his hand up to cover hers and then settled it on his knee. "I can't do this."

"Why not?" she asked.

"You know why not," he replied.

Emma swallowed roughly, as her chest began to burn. "I need you to say it."

Killian squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep breath. He slowly opened them again and met Emma's.

"Neal was my best mate in the army. I would listen to him tell stories of you and your boy and I envied him. I envied what he had. Then he died in my arms. And you came into my life. You were everything I needed. Everything I ever wanted. But you're not mine. You can never be. I couldn't do that to Neal. I couldn't betray him like that."

Emma nodded. "I understand. That's admirable." She paused and then asked, "Can I show you something?"

Killian bobbed his head. "Of course."

Emma pulled the envelope out of her pocket and held it up to him. "This is Neal's letter. I'd like to read it to you."

Killian shook his head. "Emma, that is private. That is between you two."

"I think he'd want me to," she said.

Killian sighed. "Okay."

Emma pulled the letter out and unfolded it. She sucked in a deep breath before beginning.

 _Dear Emma,_

 _If you're reading this, then that means I am no longer with you. I know my passing will be difficult on you and Henry, but I also know you will find a way to move forward. You are the strongest woman I have ever met and I am honored to have called you my wife. I treasure the moments we shared together and I only wish that we could share more. But fate had other ideas._

 _I have only one wish for you, Emma. Be happy. Find someone who will make you happy. You spent the first 17 years of your life alone, feeling unloved and unhappy. I never want that for you again. I know it won't be easy. Opening your heart again, trusting again, but please promise me you'll try. Promise me you'll be open to the possibility. And never forget that I will always be with you._

 _Love,_

 _Neal_

Emma blinked back tears, as she lifted her eyes to meet Killian's. A tear slipped down her cheek and Killian lifted his hand to brush it away with his thumb.

"You make me happy, Killian," she whispered.

He swallowed roughly. "It's been two days, Emma."

She shook her head. "No, it's been two years. Every word you've ever written to me has brought a smile to my face. How can you honestly tell me there's anything wrong with that?"

"Emma, please," Killian breathed.

"No, just listen to me, please," she said softly. "What if there was another reason Neal asked you to hand deliver that letter to me? He could have asked you to send it to me once you got back to New York. But he didn't. He wanted us to meet, Killian. Maybe we were meant to. Maybe fate did have other ideas."

Killian looked into her eyes and felt his heart swell. He had been denying his feelings for her for so long and was certain she would never return them. But not only did she return them, she wanted them to have a chance together.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Do you really believe Neal would be okay with this?"

Emma nodded. "He wanted you to be happy too, Killian. I know he did. And I know he trusted you and thought you were a man of honor. I think he'd be okay."

Killian's mouth finally gave way to a smile, as he leaned forward and cupped her face in his hand. His lips met hers in a soft kiss.

They parted a moment later, but their foreheads remained touching.

"Best Christmas gift I've ever gotten," he whispered.

Emma chuckled and then responded by kissing him again.

…

5 months later: Memorial Day

"Love, I think this spot is fine," Killian said as he trailed behind Emma along the parade route.

"Henry's scout troop should be third and he said he should be on the right side. I want to make sure we can see him."

Killian set both chairs down and settled into one. Emma's was squinting down the road in search of Henry. Killian slipped his hand into hers and gave it a tug. When she didn't respond, he reached up and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her down onto his lap.

Emma let out a laugh as she wrapped her arms around his neck and met his eyes.

"I love you," she said.

"And I love you," he replied.

She pressed a kiss to his lips and then pulled away. She turned her head and pointed.

"There he is! There's Henry!"

Emma and Killian waved, as Henry gave them a smile. He was wearing his scout uniform with a special addition: a medal his father had been awarded posthumously.

Killian smiled. "Neal would be very proud of the man he is becoming."

Emma nodded. "Yes, he would. And he would be happy that now he has you as a role model."

Killian pressed a kiss to her forehead, as she lay her head on his shoulder. They knew neither of them would ever feel lonely again.

…...THE END…...

Thanks for reading! I'd appreciate any feedback you'd like to give. ~Steph


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